Some folks whispered, some folks talked
But everybody looked the other way
And when time ran out there was no one about
On Independence Day

Now I ain’t sayin’ it’s right or it’s wrong
But maybe it’s the only way
Talk about your revolution
It’s Independence Day

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing
Let the whole world know that today
Is a day of reckoning
Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong
Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay
It’s Independence Day

~Martina McBride

I play music nearly every waking moment of my days. It helps me through the hardest times. It motivates me, when I have shit to do. It plays in the background of practically every single memory, as it’s made. From the happiest celebrations, to quiet reflection when I’m alone, to the toughest goodbyes, I’ve got playlists for every occasion. There’s song lyrics able to express exactly what I’m feeling, always. My anger, hurt, and sadness practically screamed out through its lyrics, Today, this song has morphed into an anthem expressing my acceptance. Grasping even the harshest realities by no means equates to gratitude over them. It simply confirms that I do, in fact, possess the strength and courage to keep going, in spite of things I truly believed I’d never recover from. I was never more convinced of my inability to survive, or just how unworthy I was of healing. I don’t say that flippantly, either. It’s absolutely the truth. Until one day, with time, I realized I’d begun to actually see that what seemed so obviously impossible was suddenly possible. Possibilities I’m discovering myself embracing, because I refuse to continue on accepting that the cruelty, contempt, and pain are exactly what I deserve. Nobody knows my heart, my intentions, or motivations, better than I do. What anyone thinks of me just isn’t my business, if the truth they choose to accept of who and what I am is formed based on lies. Someone willing to condemn me, while refusing to consider who I’ve always shown them I am, cannot possibly claim to have loved me. If it was easy to trust the deceit filled words of another, carelessly able to betray those who’ve only tried to give them love and support…I can’t have mattered very much. Sure, I could seek retribution, but why? What exactly would be the point? Proving myself to anyone requiring evidence that I’m not a monster, what purpose would that serve? If you’re so easily persuaded, and I’m so easily dismissed, I really don’t deserve you. I will not fight to include anyone in my life, who’s blatantly shown me exactly how much they valued me, my word, my actions and opinions, our experiences, promises, expectations, and especially my family. I won’t again make myself vulnerable to anybody capable of exploiting those vulnerabilities, with virtually no concern for the damage that causes. Eventually, truth seems to have a way of making itself known. Its acceptance honestly seems utterly unimportant to me, anymore, from any one unwilling to take the time to search it out, or to have bothered to give me any benefit of doubt in the meantime.

Please don’t mistake my sentiment as attempts to throw a pity party of one, here. I’m much stronger than before. I don’t need or want sympathy, condolences, or apologies. All I want, is to cling tightly onto what’s left here with me. To live without fear. I’m tired of glancing carefully over my shoulder, anytime I begin to feel safe. Checking for knives aimed at my back, held by hands I used to trust. I’m utterly exhausted from all the energy I’ve wasted on vain attempts to preserve fruits that rotted long ago. I only reflect on my past, so that I can better prepare for my future. A gangrenous limb must be amputated. The only options are to do so, or to allow the infection to spread over my entire body, ensuring my own destruction. I’m hoping to more clearly recognize the symptoms, before I’m forced to cut off anything more.

It’s Independence Day, and I’m finally beginning to feel free. I truly will die on my feet, before I’d live on my knees.

Happy Birthday, United States of America 🇺🇸

One year older, wiser. And, so am I.

It’s the joy of Grandma laughin’
And Grandpa’s funny jokes
It’s the rumble of those ol’ baseball cards
Flappin’ between the spokes
It’s a Fourth of July picnic
It’s farm-made and rock and roll
From town to town
You can hear the sound of the American soul

Oh, say can you see
Flag that you wave
Freedom ain’t free
In the home of the brave
It’s the roots and the boots
From the hard hat to the steel toe
It’s the hustle and bustle
Blood, sweat, and tears that build the backbone
Of the American Soul

~Aaron Watson

I picked up my Mj, yesterday. We got her a direct flight, from KC to Nashville. It was her first time ever flying all alone. Even though her older sisters had done it, since they were much younger than Mj, I was still anxious about it. She did great, though. She regaled me with all the stories of her adventures, over the past two weeks. She’s become quite the expert at dirt biking. Yikes.

I truly am so glad she was able to go and spend time with her grandma, uncles, and cousins. She’s got memories she’ll carry with her always.

Today, Mj and I went and got some Dutch Bros iced coffees, and went to the grocery store. I always seem to come home with much more than anticipated, anytime I bring along my husband or kids. We had fun, though. I’ve got meatloaf in the oven, for supper. It’s a much cooler 88 degrees outside, right now. We had temps over 100, all the past week. I’m probably the only person who isn’t complaining about those heat waves! I just love everything Summer brings, even the hot weather.

We’re going to Poppy’s, on the Fourth. I’ve got everything to make Mj and my annual “flag cake”, and Jell-O shots.

Things at my house are pretty much what’s grown to become our normal. I’m enjoying the quiet joy that the consistency brings me. Looking at the smiling happy faces that surround me is where I find my peace. Life isn’t quite so hard to do, these days. Everyday, I flip my daily calendar over. For years, I’ve had the same one. I flip the calendar over, and I now think to myself, look how far I’ve come. That’s a very welcome change, from an entire year of mornings flipping those same calendar pages and wishing I could go back. Instead, I now feel grateful I’ve gone forward.

I’m okay as fuck, today.